Persons of Interest
by BananaNutCrunch
Summary: A thrilling tale of angry cops, a conman, an art fraudster and a couple of unfortunate curators. Maybe a little bit of love, too. Hold on to your hats, ladies and gents, this ride is going to be bumpy (and probably slightly illegal). MakoHaru, SouRin and ReiGisa to come.
1. Chapter 1

**__****Person of interest:** someone involved in a criminal investigation who has not been arrested or formally accused.

* * *

Prologue: I don't believe in shooting stars. I _do_ believe in shoes and cars.

* * *

It starts with a game of Monopoly in the bath one Thursday night.

"Give me Oxford."

"I'm not going to give you Oxford, Haru, I've got two out of three and I'm only a roll away from being able to buy the last one-"

"_Give me Oxford."_

"…fine."

The card is passed over. Haruka accepts it with nary a change of expression, and Makoto sighs.

"I don't understand why we're playing this game in the bath. Wouldn't it be better on a table?"

"There's no water at the table," Haruka says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Makoto sighs again. What with his increased lung capacity from having to hold his breath underwater, it's a long sigh.

"The board's going to get ruined." And he's got a point, too. It's bad enough that Haru's bathtub is barely large enough for the two of them to sit in without touching (although, admittedly, neither of them is small-sized), but having to play with a flimsy square of cardboard perched on your knees is kind of a pain. The board wobbles every time one of them moves, which is often, seeing as they have to bend to get at the stacks of money and cards on the floor next to the tub. There are already splotches of damp on all the paper components of the game, and Haru had thrown a silent tantrum when the ship token had gotten lost (Makoto had _told_ him that trying to float it in the bathwater was a bad idea).

"Let's get a new one," Haru suggests.

"We're not made of money," comes the reply.

The game continues. Despite coercing Makoto into handing over no fewer than three of his cards, Haru still manages to lose. As per usual, he flips the board. Little plastic houses go everywhere and innocent paper money gets soaked beyond recognition. The dog token, which Haruka for some reason forces him to use every time they play, bounces off Makoto's forehead. For the third time that hour, he sighs.

Haruka crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't want to play this game anymore."

"That's what you say every time, and yet we end up in here almost every week."

Except, this time Makoto swears they've lost half the pieces, and it's going to be difficult to play with the ink smeared so badly it's hardly legible.

"We'll buy a new one," says Haru in reply to the unspoken concern.

"Like I said, we're not made of money."

Makoto leans back against the tub and looks out the window. It's not as though he is especially _poor_. It's just that things are a bit tight for the Tachibana family, what with three kids to take care of. Makoto tries his best, and has been working part-time jobs ever since he was thirteen, but there are times when he has to go hungry so Ren and Ran don't have to. He doesn't begrudge them of it, because he's a good older brother, but it's starting to wear on him just a bit.

Haruka, by contrast, is actually pretty wealthy. His parents work overseas and periodically send him money. Unlike Makoto, however, Haru is absolutely useless at taking care of his finances, and cash flows through his fingers like the water he loves so much. Even after Makoto had taken charge of his best friend's accounts, Haru still tends to spend on junk (like 'Mr Northern Stoplight Loosejaw', which, as far as Makoto can make out, is some sort of _utterly bizarre_ onesie that Haru likes to wear to sleep, although how anyone can go to sleep wearing a horrifying, larger-than-life deep sea fish is beyond Makoto's comprehension. He aborts that train of thought, because while Mr Stoplight Loosejaw makes Haru sleep like a baby, it also gives _him_ nightmares).

It takes another half hour before Haru can be coaxed out of the tub, by which time he is pliant enough to go to bed without much fuss. There is a minor incident as Haru insists on the accursed onesie or nothing at all, but he is eventually wrestled into a pair of underpants and Makoto is able to lie down next to him without having an aneurism. Even without his beloved pyjamas, Haru falls asleep easily and dreams happy dreams, only kicking his friend in the stomach once that night.

Makoto, on the other hand, stays up thinking how nice it would be if they had just a bit more money to spend. He goes to school the next day with this same thought in his head, and there it stays for the next four years.

If he's going to be honest with himself, it's no surprise at all that he and Haru grow up to be a pair of criminals.

* * *

**Cover picture by mookie000 on Tumblr, who draws some of my favourite fanart ever. **

**This idea originally came from an old thread on the kink meme, in which a lovely anon requested an AU with Makoto and Haru on the run from the law. The plot hit me like a speedo to the face, and so I offer my humble contribution. **

**Guess who's going to get into your house and destroy your Monopoly sets unless you click the little review button right there?  
**

**That's right**.

**Me. **

**(≼⓪≽◟⋌⋚⋛⋋◞≼⓪≽)  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Perhaps the world's second worst crime is boredom. The first is being a bore.

* * *

"That red-head's really getting on my nerves."

Rin doesn't look up from playing Solitaire on his desktop. "You better not be talking about me."

Sousuke laughs. "I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about Minishiba over there."

"Isn't he in holding?"

"Not anymore, apparently."

Rin stops the game and looks up. A few desks over, Nitori is trying to work on compiling a case file while simultaneously having his ear talked off by Momotaro Mikoshiba. Catching Rin's eye, Nitori sends him a pleading glance as if to say, _help me, I don't want to hear any more about stag beetles_.

Rin sighs and stands. "Damn it, who let Momo out again?"

The boy turns. "Hi, Sergeant Matsuoka! My brother came to pay my bail so I'm technically not in custody anymore! Can I play with the puppy now?"

"Stop bothering Officer Nitori, Momo," Rin sighs, looking around for the older Mikoshiba brother. "And no, she is a fully trained police dog, not a toy, so you can't play with her."

"Not much of a police dog, she just lies on the floor and trips people up most of the time," calls Sousuke helpfully from his corner.

"If the peanut gallery could keep its thoughts to itself?" Rin replies tersely. "Mikoshiba, you should really start taking better care of your little brother."

Seijuro Mikoshiba, despite being all of six feet tall, fiery-haired, wild-eyed and well-muscled, shuffles his feet in embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry for all the trouble. What did he do this time?"

"He tried to shoplift a cupboard."

Seijuro whistles. "Momo, you lifted a whole cupboard?"

Rin shakes his head. "He didn't. It fell on him when he was halfway out the door. Shopkeeper waited a few hours before he called us, apparently. Thought it'd teach him a lesson."

"Yeah, if you're going to steal something, make sure it's not heavier than you!" Momo pitches in. He receives a slap on the head from his older brother as input.

"_Dammit_, Momo, how many times are you going to keep doing stupid shit? I don't want to keep having to bail your dumb ass out. The next time this happens I'm just going to leave you here to rot." He grabs his younger brother's collar and physically hauls him out the door, getting started on a long and probably slightly profane lecture about _morals_ and_ if you're going to do something illegal at least try not to get caught._

Rin does, in fact, trip over the police dog on the way back to his desk, but his subordinates are polite enough to ignore it. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that kidgets locked up on purpose."

"He does. The first time we called him in, he tried to stay an extra night."

"But _why_?" Rin says to nobody in particular. The police dog gets off the floor and shuffles over to put her head in his lap. "There's nothing pleasant about holding. He's got nice clothes. His home can't be that bad. What possible motivation could he have for getting arrested every week?"

"We could always interrogate him the next time we see him. You know, rough him up a little," Sousuke grins.

"He's _nineteen_, and half your size. Everyone's already scared of you, you don't need a police brutality charge on top of that."

"Aw, come on." His voice is petulant, although nobody but Rin would have dared point that out. "He could be up to something. And besides, I'm _bored._"

"You and I both know Momo has about the same tactical ability as a fruit salad. And not a very intelligent fruit salad, either. I'd be more afraid the_ dog_ was up to something."

"She might well be. Hell, I'd be planning to kick some ass if some dumbass decided to call me 'Snoop Dogg' for the rest of my life."

"Fuck off, it's a good name. Isn't that right, Snoopy?" Rin coos, scratching the German Shepherd behind the ear. "You won't listen to that guy, will you? He's just jealous because I wouldn't let him name you after a Pokemon."

"Houndoom is cool, okay?"

"It's not, and you're a huge nerd."

"Fuck you too. At least let me play with her a little."

"Not after you insulted her. If you're bored, how about you do your damned paperwork? You could stand to practice your kanji. Some Sergeant you are, you can barely write your own name."

"Hell, I ain't _that_ bored. And Yamazaki can be hard to spell, okay?"

"I take it back, _you_ have the intelligence of a fruit salad," Rin mutters.

Sousuke twirls a pen in his hand and turns to look out the window. Tokyo is pretty busy for this time of day, although anything would be busy in comparison to Iwatobi. Neither he nor Rin have been to their hometown in a few years, but the fast-paced lifestyle and higher crime rates make sure Sousuke is always kept on his toes. "Hey, do I really have to meet your boyfriend?" he asks.

"Haru's not my boyfriend, dipshit, he's my best friend. And yes, you do. I've already booked a nice place for us to eat at. He's bringing Makoto too, so you better look presentable. I don't wanna see any of that sloppy 'I just rolled out of bed' shit."

"I thought _I_ was your best friend."

Rin rolls his eyes. "'Best friend' is a level, man, not a title. So I want one best friend to meet my other best friends. Sound reasonable?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Is he cute?"

"I guess, but I think he and Makoto might have something going on. I don't know, we never really talk about that kind of stuff."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, probably not."

Sousuke throws the pen at him. "Let's get some ramen after the shift, I don't feel like cooking tonight."

"Only if you're paying," Rin replies.

Sousuke doesn't argue. The two collapse into companionable silence until Officer Nitori squeaks from one corner of the office. There is a sound like a stack of papers falling to the floor followed by a brief scuffle. The office goes quiet again, and then Rin hears a loud wail. Sousuke starts snickering beside him, and Rin doesn't even bother looking up this time.

"Alright, you assholes, which one of you let Momo back in?"

* * *

Nagisa has, somehow, a weird ability to guess what Rei is going to order even before Rei can look at the menu.

This wouldn't be much of a bother, except that Nagisa also makes it a habit to order the exact same thing, only to make Rei change his order to something _Nagisa_ would like. They're not allowed to exchange dishes, for reasons that Rei is still trying to figure out, so they end up spending their lunch break picking food off each other's plates. Rei has asked about this many times, but the answer he gets is generally non-committal, and so he gave up before the year was out.

He allows Nagisa to spear a strawberry out of the cake box in his hands and is rewarded with a tuna roll in return. "Mr Nanase is going to be here at 3 pm. He said he wanted to take a look at Takano's newer works."

Nagisa takes a second to reply, chewing thoughtfully on his strawberry with a splotch of whipped cream on the tip of his nose that he may only be leaving there just to piss Rei off. "Which one was Tanako again?"

"_Takano._ The young one, Nagisa, her work is _absolutely beautiful_. I've never seen futuristic scenes rendered in such loving detail, and her female characters are divine. Did you know she was represented by Murakami? In one of his movies, I think it was _Kiki_, I can't imagine what an honour it must have been for such a young artist…"

Eyes glazing over like the top of his cake, Nagisa lets the steady stream of babble wash over him. Rei is cute as hell, but Nagisa could do without the weird obsession with aesthetic pleasure. Still, he supposes, he can't complain, because Rei wouldn't be Rei without his quirks. He's a bit of a fruitcake, sure, but Nagisa _likes_ fruitcake.

Besides, it's not like Nagisa's easy to deal with himself.

He pokes Rei hard on the forehead, just to see what he'll do. The monologue stops immediately.

Rei's blushing, which is cute, but he's also gone cross-eyed and catatonic, which may be a sign of an absence seizure. Nagisa quickly removes the offending digit, but not before rubbing at Rei's skin slightly so nobody will find his fingerprints there in case Rei actually does die.

"Are you still there?"

"…please don't do that again, Nagisa."

Nagisa sighs. He likes art well enough, and it's always nice looking at pretty paintings and trying to imagine what the artist must have been thinking while creating them. It had been lonely though, working in the gallery all by himself in big bad Tokyo, until Rei had walked in like a batty butterfly in glasses to take a look at the display. Nagisa had fluttered his eyelashes and made cute remarks and followed him around because not only was this stranger disgustingly good-looking, but he looked smart and had an appreciation for the finer things in life. Rei became a regular until Nagisa finally managed to wheedle him into coming to work at the gallery with him, at which point he discovered that Rei was a lot more dorky than he let on, and then he'd liked him even _more._

Really, you'd think he'd have managed to score a date by now.

The bell above the door jingles, making the two jump. Nagisa shoves the sushi box under the counter and wipes the cream off his face as Rei stands, and calls out a greeting.

"Sorry for coming in so early. We were in the area, so we just thought we'd stop by."

Rei's face breaks into a smile, and Nagisa bounces on the balls of his feet. "Hello, Mr Tachibana, Mr Nanase! Please don't worry, you're always welcome here. Would you like to take a look at the pieces I told you about last week?"

Nanase Haruka, twenty-four years old and a respectable connoisseur of the artistic medium, flops into a chair and lets Makoto do the work for him. "I wanted a tuna melt for lunch, but the restaurant we went to didn't have any."

"That's a shame," says Nagisa good-naturedly. "Rei's still got some tuna sushi, if you want. You can have some of that."

Haruka considerers this and gracefully accepts the offer. Meanwhile, Makoto walks among the paintings with Rei by his side.

"This one's interesting," he says, selecting one of the larger ones. "Tell me, how was it made?"

Rei launches into a complicated explanation about oil paints and special brushes, which Makoto nods along to. Haruka listens with half an ear. He's interested in painting methods, but when it comes to actually choosing art, he usually lets Makoto decide. He has a good eye for commercial value, after all, while Haruka can only appreciate a painting for its artistry, rather than its appeal to an audience.

Makoto ends up buying two paintings, which sets them back a couple of hundred thousand yen. Rei sometimes wonders what the two of them do for a living, that they can afford to buy mid-range art every month at such a young age. He's polite enough not to ask, though, so he leaves it at that.

The pair leaves, and Rei and Nagisa wave them off cheerfully. The moment the door swings shut, Nagisa leans forward for a stage whisper.

"I bet they're both members of the yakuza."

Rei splutters. "That's absolutely ridiculous, Nagisa. They're such nice people, there's no way that they're criminals."

Nagisa laughs and leans against the counter, retrieving his abandoned shortcake. "Oh yeah? Where'd they get all that money from, then? Who can afford to buy so many paintings all the time?"

"Maybe they're agents, Nagisa. They could be buying the art for other people. Some people resell art and make money off it. If that's the case then I have to congratulate them for their good business sense, because it seems they're quite successful." He rummages around for his sushi, ignoring the co-worker sprawled over the counter and getting in the way.

"Don't be so boring, Rei-baby. I'm just saying, I find it a little suspicious, that's all."

"Please don't call me Rei-baby, I'm twenty-two years old and not a girl."

"Sorry, sweetie."

Rei sighs and lets it go. Nobody ever wins when it comes to the little blond antichrist.

The idea of the Tachibana-Nanase duo being up to illicit activities is intriguing, but Rei brushes it off as fiction. Nagisa does, after all, like to spin stories about total strangers, often turning it into a game to pass the time. Mr Tachibana's gentle smile makes it very difficult to imagine him breaking someone's ankles, and Mr Nanase seems too…vacant to be any sort of criminal mastermind. If either of them have ever done anything wrong, Rei thinks, it can't be worth much more than a parking ticket.

"Nagisa?"

"Yes?"

"Where are all my tuna rolls?"

Nagisa, mysteriously, remains silent for the rest of the day.

* * *

**You know what? Even disregarding the sexuality of all the other boys (and how he is in this fic), I can't help but imagine Sousuke as that one straight friend who acts ambiguously gay. Like, he'd have a new girlfriend every two months, but he'd also casually suggest making out and then laugh when Rin splutters and punches his arm. He probably wouldn't actually date any of them, but he'd incessantly fish for compliments and of course butt-grabbing is a must ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ).**

**Well, hate to sound pathetic, but it's time for me to grovel and plead that you leave a comment! It's very encouraging to see that people read what you write. I always reply, so please don't be shy to come talk to me! **

**...my results come out tomorrow. If I don't update ever again, I may have committed seppuku. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: When there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking a few laws.

* * *

The only sounds Sousuke hears are clinking tableware and quiet chatter. There's no sign of trouble anywhere, but he's on edge. His eyes dart around the room, zoning on potential faces, looking for signs of ill-intent. Now is a good time to look for possible escape routes. The fire escape is one option, but it's being blocked by a fat man in a suit. The doors to the kitchens are another, since he might be able to scare the chefs into keeping their mouths shuts until he has a chance to disappear into the back alley. If he can slip past the waiters, nobody will question his presence until he's close enough to stare them down and flash his police badge. Slowly, carefully, he inches his way towards the kitchens, reaching his hands into his pocket for the keys to the car.

An iron claw makes itself at home on his shoulder. "And where the _fuck_ do you think you're going?"

Sousuke immediately stills. "Taking a leak?" he hazards.

Matsuoka Rin, three inches shorter and nearly ten kilos lighter, pins him to his seat with the force of his stare. "Haru and Makoto will be here any minute. I haven't seen them in ages and I am really looking forward to a nice get-together between all of my friends, so I would be very grateful if you would_ sit your ass down and act like a goddamn adult for two hours of your miserable life._"

Sousuke sits.

Rin settles back into his seat with a beatific smile. "There. Isn't this nice?"

"Yessir. Sorry sir."

It takes another ten minutes before Rin's guests arrive, apologizing profusely for being late (one of them, anyway). Sousuke bites the inside of his cheek and says absolutely nothing, because _hot damn_.

Nanase's got a handsome face and very bright eyes, and Sousuke wonders what the guy must be doing to his hair to make it so shiny. He's wearing a suit that's a little bit big on him, but it's easy to tell he's fairly well-built. Nice voice, too, smooth and cool, although he doesn't say much beyond a simple "hello". The tall one, Tachibana, is about the same size as Sousuke, all powerful shoulders and muscle. His face is sweet, though, and Sousuke finds his mouth going a little dry when that happy little smile is turned on him. And then Tachibana reaches down to fix his shoelaces, and _Jesus Mary Joseph that is an ass sculpted by the gods themselves._

If Rin had described either of them properly, Sousuke would have been a lot happier about dressing up. Then again, he's standing there chatting animatedly with a dopey grin on his face, so he thinks maybe Rin just hasn't noticed how attractive his friends are. Stands to reason, because Rin hasn't seemed to notice how attractive _Sousuke_ is, either. The guy's so oblivious he wouldn't notice a come on if it took off its shirt and sat on his couch with a smile and a glass of wine.

Sousuke knows. He's tried.

He doesn't much pay attention to the conversation. He's too busy staring at the three men with him, thinking about how badly he'd like to tap all of that, preferably at the same time. When asked a question he answers, but aside from that he plasters on a neutral expression and lets Rin do all the talking. It's a little weird, he thinks, that Rin's been friends with these people for so long, and yet he's never heard of them once.

His eyes lock with Nanase's about halfway through dessert, and suddenly he has a very bad feeling.

* * *

Three days later, he has all of Momotaro Mikoshiba's files open on his desk.

Rin leans over his shoulder to see what he's doing. "Haven't seen the kid in about a week now. What are you looking for?"

"Nothing much," Sousuke replies, flipping a page. "I'm running dry on funny police stories for my folks, is all."

"Well, Momo is some grade A joke material," Rin chuckles, heading off for the break room. "Gou loves the story about the time he tried to recuse that cat from a tree and got stuck. I don't think I've ever seen Nitori so annoyed. You want some coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good." He turns on his monitor and cracks his knuckles. "Anyway," he mutters under his breath, "it's not the younger Mikoshiba I'm interested in."

* * *

There are two rumours going around the precinct that directly involve Sousuke Yamazaki.

One of them is actually true. It's common knowledge that Sergeants Yamazaki and Matsuoka climbed the ranks so quickly because of their excellent teamwork and phenomenal arrest record. The two of them understand each other so well, it's said, that they've got the good cop/bad cop routine down pat. Rin is the good cop; he's dependable, trustworthy, easy to approach and always willing to lend an ear to the troubled. Sousuke, on the other hand, is aggressive, intimidating and, ruthless. While Rin is the protector of the innocent, Sousuke is the punisher of the wicked.

The other rumour is a little harder to place. Listen close enough to the whispers of the underground, and you'll learn that Yamazaki Sousuke is a businessman. He buys and sells information, burrowing deep into the heart of the criminal world just far enough that he knows when to strike and where. Petty criminals awaiting the hand of justice have claimed that in their darkest moments, Sergeant Yamazaki has stepped in and offered them a choice. _Tell me everything you know and we'll see about getting you a slap on the wrist._ This is, it's said, the root of Yamazaki's legendary ability to sniff out trouble even before it happens.

The second rumour is, in fact, also true. The only difference is that Sergeant Matsuoka doesn't know it.

* * *

"I've heard," says Sousuke, "that your older brother doesn't just work as a gym instructor."

It's been two weeks since he met Nanase and Tachibana. Rin has been talking about them nonstop, but that's hardly new. Sousuke, in between doing regular work, has been digging through police archives with the vivacity of an angry bloodhound. He's found, to his great delight, that Momotaro Mikoshiba is not your ordinary fifteen-year-old-boy.

Momo frowns. It's obvious he'd not sure how to answer, because he's alone in a holding cell with Sergeant Yamazaki, who is much bigger than him, much meaner than him, and apparently the security camera has been switched off for a while because the little light's not blinking.

"I dunno where you found that out from," he says slowly, wondering if anyone will hear him if he starts screaming. Yamazaki grins.

"I have access to police files, you know. And I've been talking to some friends. I have a lot of friends."

"I have a lot of friends too," replies Momo, hoping that his intentions will translate. If he doesn't get back from the police station in one piece, there will be hell to pay.

"I know. I was counting on that, in fact. I have some questions I'd like to ask your brother for me."

Ah. There it is, the rumours are true after all. Yamazaki's going to use Momotaro to buy information about the shady people his older brother works with, and then he's going to go on an epic manhunt for some kingpin or other. Momo's doesn't know if he wants to be a part of this, but he's also not sure if Yamazaki will take too kindly to being refused.

"I can't promise you anything, you know."

"I know," replies the officer, leaning back in his seat. He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and slides it across the table. "I'm not going to snoop into Mikoshiba's business. I don't really care about some guy making meth in his basement. Well, officially, I have to care, I guess, but right now I'm not being official. If you tell anyone what I'm telling you now, of course, you're going to be finding police tape around your house for a while and it's not you who's going to need bailing out."

Momo takes the piece of paper and nods. "So you want me to find out whatever I can about this guy?" he asks, squinting at the crappy handwriting. _Haruka Nanase,_ it says. Attached is a photograph of a young man with dark hair and serious blue eyes. Next to him is a taller man with a gentle smile on his face. The photo looks like it's been cropped, but if he looks hard enough, Momo thinks he can see a flash of red at the very edge of the picture. "And what do I get out of it?"

Sousuke clasps his hands together. "That depends on what you want."

A pause. "A date with Officer Nitori."

"Well, I can't promise you that."

"His phone number, then."

"You'll have it by the end of the day," Yamazaki says smugly. "He stays up late, so you can probably call any time. Don't disappoint me, kid. I want as many details as possible." He stands up to leave. Rin should be back from his coffee run soon, and he has to turn the security camera back on before anyone notices.

He's halfway through the door when Momotaro speaks up again. "Sergeant Yamazaki, one more thing."

He turns. "Yeah?"

The younger Mikoshiba's expression is determined. It's going to take some guile to get his big brother to help him out, and he'll be damned if he doesn't milk the opportunity Yamazaki's giving him.

"Let me play with the dog."

Yamazaki smiles. "Consider it done."

* * *

**Normally I like ambiguously gay Sousuke, or actually-straight-but-flirts-with-Rin-outrageously Sousuke, but nOT TODAY. Today we have horndog Sousuke who knows how to appreciate a cute butt. A cute butt like Makoto's. I mean with back muscles like that how can Makoto not have a cute butt? He basically is a cute butt. Like, just a butt. A butt with a face. Cute butt.**

**Looks like I didn't have to commit swimpukku after all because I'm going to LSE! CELEBRATE ALL THE THINGS**

**I'll admit, this entire fic isn't much more than an excuse to write about Police Dog. I go through each chapter thinking, 'when's the next time i can squeeze in the dog? i should write more dog. maybe the cops should take turns bringing her home. dog isn't even a police dog, more like a regular dog that hangs out at the station. i wonder if i should have called her iwatobi-chan, but that would be weird. snoop dogg is better. her collar should be yellow.'**

**Please feel free to yell at me in the comments.**

**(◞≼o≽◟◞౪◟◞≼o≽◟)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: He's not my reward. I'm his punishment.

* * *

"So."

"So?"

Rei narrows his eyes at the way Nagisa's holding his hands behind his back. There's something purple sticking up over his shoulder, and every time Rei tries to tilt his head to get a better look, Nagisa shifts with him. Rei moves the other way, and Nagisa mirrors the action. It's suspicious, if not slightly annoying.

They're the only people in the gallery, it being the middle of a weekday afternoon. Most respectable members of the Japanese public are busy at work or at school, so there hasn't been a customer since nine AM. This is, of course, the only reason Rei had allowed Nagisa to run out for a bit without much of a fuss, but now he's back with a mysterious bundle and a shit-eating grin.

"You look like you're up to something," Rei says, frowning.

Nagisa's smile only widens. "I have a surprise for you."

"I'm not fond of surprises."

"…not even if it's a surp-_rei_-"

"Your next word may be your last."

"Okay." With a dramatic flourish and a bow, Nagisa reveals what's behind his back and thrusts it in Rei's face with a high-pitched _ta-da._

Rei is accosted with something soft yet simultaneously prickly that makes him sneeze. He splutters and pulls back, glasses askew, to inspect the bouquet of flowers that Nagisa's brandishing at him like a leafy weapon. "I - what?"

"Morning glories," Nagisa announces somewhat redundantly, because _obviously_ Rei can see that. "To symbolize fondness. And they're purple. That's your favourite colour, riiiight?"

One of Rei's eyebrows falls, leaving its neighbour stranded in the middle of his forehead. "Nagisa, what is this for?"

The little bouquet is pulled to a reasonable distance and Nagisa settles a hand on his hip. "You give flowers to people you like," he hints.

Rei blinks at Nagisa, then at the bouquet. "You're trying to express affection?"

"It's a lot less cute when you say it like that."

"There's nothing cute about giving someone decomposing vegetation," Rei sniffs, wrinkling his nose.

"What? I thought you'd like flowers. They're pretty. You _like_ pretty."

"I do like pretty, and I like flowers. I _don't_ like having them killed and presented to me in plastic wrapping. I see no merit in murdering something so beautiful and putting its corpse in a vase of water in some form of macabre display. There's nothing remotely attractive about that, and wrapping them up in a bow doesn't really help."

Nagisa scratches the back of his head. "Could you maybe consider this a testament to my abilities as a hunter-gatherer?"

"It's not hard to hunt a plant. It's not as though they move terribly quickly."

"…you're seriously hard to please, you know that?"

Rei meets Nagisa's stare levelly. "I do not, how do you put it, _'settle'_."

The unfortunate flowers are set on the counter and their bearer slumps into the seat next to Rei. "Can't say I didn't try."

This time, Rei glances away. He picks up the flowers properly and takes a delicate sniff. They make him somewhat uncomfortable, but he'll probably end up taking them home and caring for them anyway. "I'm allergic to pollen, you know."

"So no more flowers, then?"

If Nagisa were to look up at that moment, he'd see the tips of his not-lover's ears turn a little bit pink. Unfortunately (or fortunately, in Rei's case), he doesn't, so he misses it. "…if you're going to give them to me, just don't kill them first."

"…in a pot, then?"

Rei nods. "In a pot."

Characteristically, Nagisa launches off his stool to wrap his arms around Rei's middle. "Okay! I'll just keep trying till I find a present as pretty as you are. Which, now that I think about it, is probably going to be kind of hard, huh?"

Rei turns redder, but only elbows him in the face a little bit. Nagisa chalks this up to a win.

* * *

Haru's frowning.

This is hardly breaking news, because Haru's literally always frowning in some manner, even when he sleeps, even when he _smiles_. He'd been a particularly grumpy baby, and Makoto thinks it's to be expected from someone whose very first word had been 'no' (Makoto's own first word had, apparently, been 'Haru', but then again he isn't actually sure if his mother can be trusted on that).

"What's wrong?" he asks, looking up from his book.

"_Pink_," says Haru. Makoto isn't certain what he means, but he sounds immensely offended nonetheless.

"Yes?" he hazards, glancing around because he's fairly confident that there's nothing in their pleasant studio apartment for Haru to be angry about. It's not as though they've been invaded by errant interior designers in the middle of the night, so the decor is basically the same as it has been since they moved in. All Makoto sees is the city skyline, wooden floors and lots and lots of framed art on the walls. Some of it is by Haru himself, and others are from varying galleries. None of it is aggressively pink.

Haruka makes an impatient noise and taps at one of the paintings they've just bought. "Hair," he says. "She made it _pink."_

_Ah._

"Haru, I know you prefer artwork to be realistic, but Japanese pop culture isn't always like that." Makoto says it with a smile, because it's difficult _not_ to smile at the annoyed, confused face his best friend is making.

"Nobody has pink hair," Haru retorts, eyebrows furrowing further.

"You didn't complain about Tsuritama."

Haru pauses. "Those were aliens," he says a little petulantly. _And besides_, is the unspoken elaboration. _It's fishing anime. I like both fish and anime, so there's nothing to complain about. _

"I know," Makoto admits, and goes back to reading. "It's odd, but if this is what sells, I'm not complaining. Just try to bear with it, okay?"

Haru scowls at him. Makoto hides his smile in his book.

"You know, your things are going to dry out if you just leave them like that."

The other man makes a huffy noise in his nose and goes back to the canvas they've set up in the living room. The irritation in his shoulders seems to fade with every slow, measured brush stroke. Every so often, Haru's gaze shifts from his work to the pink-haired piece and then back again, but he doesn't complain any more. From where he's sitting, Makoto can see Haru's painting take on a distinctive pink hue as well.

He's probably won the argument for now. It's good, he thinks, that he's had a lifetime of dealing with Haruka, and could now probably be considered an expert in understanding one of the stranger creatures on God's green earth. It certainly makes it much easier for the two to work together, considering Haru's quirks. Plus, Makoto's always liked being needed. It's a nice feeling, being the strongest link between a person and the rest of the world.

That night, though, Haru gives him a sponge cake with an entire fish in it, and Makoto retracts his thoughts immediately.

* * *

"What would you do if you found out something about your friend? Like, something you never expected."

Rin tugs a bud out of his ears and turns. His music's loud enough that Sousuke can actually hear AC/DC over the sound of their labored breaths, but it seems the question isn't going to go unanswered. Before Rin can say anything, though, the timer on Sousuke's phone beeps, and the two slow down to a walk. Rin takes a second to think, reaching down to turn off the music on his iPod.

"If you're trying to tell me you're gay, I already know."

Sousuke makes an annoyed noise. Snoop Dogg ambles along beside him, because this week is Sousuke's turn to care for the German Shepherd. He reaches down and scratches it absently behind the ear. "I'm not gay, I'm just very generous with my affections."

"You like dick."

"I like dick _and_ vagina," Sousuke corrects, stopping smack in the middle of the park to stretch. He flops onto the grass with complete disregard for gravity or the state of his joints. Rin settles down next to him, lying on his back with his arms splayed. The sun's beginning to set, so the park is slowly emptying of patrons. He and Sousuke are among the last ones there, but that's how they both like it. It's somehow more peaceful with just them (and occasionally the police dog) around.

"We're gonna get stepped on if we just lie here," Rin says.

Sousuke lets out an unintelligible sound that sounds a bit like 'pah'. "Nobody's dumb enough to step on a cop."

"We don't look like cops, we look like joggers."

"We won't look like joggers when we arrest 'em."

"I'm starting to think you're a little trigger happy, Sou."

"No point being a cop if you can't enjoy it," Sousuke laughs, although it turns into a strangled wheeze when Snoop Dogg decides suddenly to sit on his chest. "Christ _almighty_. Can you explain to this mutt that she's too big to be a lapdog?"

His best friend grins but makes no move to help. "It's your turn to take care of her this week, so you'd better get used to it."

Sousuke doesn't whine, but it's a close thing. "Can't you take her?"

"I had her two weeks ago, and that's quite enough for at least another month. I'm still cleaning dog fur out of the carpet. Don't give me that face, you big baby. Come on, she's not that bad. She even fetches the newspapers! Although she doesn't actually bring them to you, she just sort of puts them in her basket and falls asleep on them. But you could use her as a guard dog, probably."

"She's too old for that shit," Sousuke grumbles, scratching the dog's back absently and fluffing up her fur. "She's not even a real police dog. She's just a regular dog that hangs out at the station and hides our paperwork."

"She makes a good pillow, though," says Rin good-naturedly. "Anyway, what were you talking about earlier?"

Sousuke pauses. "It was about Nanase, actually."

"Haru?" Rin folds his arms behind his head and stares at the sky. "Shit, I shoulda seen this coming."

Sousuke balks, because he doesn't think he's been _that_ obvious. "The hell you talking about?"

He gets the side-eye. "You've been asking me about Haru for like, two weeks now. I know what's going on."

The feeling in his stomach may be guilt, and it may also be a chubby German Shepherd lying on his gut. He gently pushes the dog off and rolls onto his side so he's facing Rin. He'd had a bad feeling, but Sousuke had never really wanted to come between Rin and two of his favourite people. "I'm sorry. It's just that I have a hunch about the Tachibana-Nanase duo," he says, and then winces, realizing he's doomed himself to thinking about them as _Tachibananana-se_ forever now. "I'm not trying to fuck with your relationship. I just want to do what feels right."

"I trust you."

"…you do?"

"Yeah." Rin settles a hand on his arm and smiles, which makes Sousuke feel less like he's walking on eggshells. "Do what you gotta do, man."

"You sure? You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" Rin raises an eyebrow and reaches out to rub Snoopy's nose. "You're my best friend."

"Nanase is your best friend too."

"That's why I trust you not to fuck it up with him."

"If I'm right, things are going to turn out really ugly, Rin."

Rin blinks at this. "That's awful pessimistic."

"What? No it's not, it's completely realistic."

Rin sits up just as the police dog snuffles into Sousuke's ear. "Man, you have to believe in yourself. Things between you and Haru aren't going to work out with that attitude."

"…what?"

His partner rolls his eyes like _Sousuke_'s the one not making sense. "You're a catch, you know. Anyone would be lucky to have you. And even if you don't have so much practice with the whole commitment thing, you're a great guy. I know you joke around a lot and you'll flirt with anything that moves, but I can tell you're serious about dating Haru. I'm not dumb."

_Yes, you are,_ Sousuke thinks.

He doesn't say this. Instead, he sighs, grins and shakes his head. "You can read me like a book, Rin. Thanks for the encouragement."

"That's what best friends are for," Rin ruffles his hair warmly. "Good luck, yeah? And you know I love you, but don't hurt Haru, okay?"

"Okay," Sousuke says, and crosses his fingers behind his back.

* * *

**Headcanon #1: Haru, being a big kid, is quite fond of anime and manga, even if his taste is a bit strange. His current favourite is Donyatsu, which is a bizarre little manga about a cute half-cat-half-donut thing living in a post-apocalyptic world.**

**Headcanon #2: After watching Tsuritama, Haru made Makoto take him fishing. They didn't actually catch anything, because Haru took his clothes off and dove into the water five minutes into the trip. He didn't come out again until Makoto threatened to fish him out with a net.**

**Allow yourself in the mental image of Haru flopping around at the end of a fishing line.**

**I've only just realised that the chapter numbers provided by FF and my chapter numbers don't match up, but I can't be buggered to change it. Nevertheless, please join me in enthusing about dogs or alternatively hurl abuse at me in the form of a review.**

**I may or may not have spent the afternoon rewinding Future Fish to see what colour Police Dogg's collar is. Turns out she isn't wearing a collar at all.**

**Did I add in 200 extra words just so I could write about the dog more? ...no, what gave you that idea? What? Did I make it Sousuke's turn to take care of her so I'd have an excuse to put her in the next chapter? Of course not. Please stop accusing me of these things.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Only a widow can say exactly where her husband is.

* * *

Dog noses, as it turns out, are the coldest fucking things in the world at seven o'clock in the morning.

Sousuke groans and pushes the offending thing away with a foot. He's not going out for a run today because it's a Sunday, which is meant to be a day of rest like the Lord intended. It is not meant to be spent with an overly-friendly canine wagging its tail against the floor and hitting the bedside table every two seconds with a muffled _thump_.

He groans again and, without opening his eyes, casts around on the floor until he finds a dirty t-shirt to throw at it, although that doesn't seem to dampen its accursed high spirits. Finally pulling his face away from the pillow, he makes a noise like a hibernating bear and glares his hardest at Snoop Dogg. The effect of this is similar to throwing a teacup into a snowstorm.

He loses the staring contest. Defeated, he drags himself out of the loving arms of sleep and pads into the kitchen, grumbling slightly when the carpet gives way to the kitchen tiles. It's cold, but that may only be because he's shuffling around in his underwear. The police dog, acting as though this is its home, tags along so it can nudge its empty food bowl at him.

He huffs at it through his nose and digs around for the huge bag of dog food Rin has stashed under his sink. The sensible thing to do now is probably to join the dog for breakfast, since there's little chance of going back to sleep, so Sousuke opens the fridge to stare at its meagre contents. He'll pass on the cardboard cereal he usually inhales five minutes before going to work. It's still ass o'clock in the morning, so he actually has time to make something elaborate. He could fix a batch of pancakes, or maybe finally give in to the popular stereotype and buy a box of donuts. There might be bacon in the freezer, too. He's not a bad cook, but he has to go slow so he doesn't fuck things up, so by the time he's done with breakfast he'll probably have time to watch a couple episodes of that bizarre cartoon about the kid and the stretchy dog (that he won't admit Nitori has gotten him hooked on) before lunch.

Pancakes_ and_ bacon are probably excessive, actually, but Sousuke figures he'll go for broke. Rin, after all, does enjoy complaining about how much food Sousuke eats, which is ridiculous, because as much as Rin says he likes to watch his weight, Sou's seen him put away cheeseburgers roughly the size of his own head.

The phone rings before he can get the instant pancake batter out of the cupboard. He sighs and goes back to his room, patting Snoop Dogg on the way.

His phone's somehow managed to find its way into his pillowcase, but it's still ringing when he finally locates it. "Hello?" Sousuke says, trying not to sound like a grouchy fuck because some bastard's calling him way too early on a Sunday.

The bastard turns out to be Rin. "Morning, sunshine."

"You woke me the fuck up," Sousuke lies, just to see if Rin feels guilty. He doesn't, as it turns out.

"If I left you alone you'd sleep till tomorrow. You busy today?"

"Not really." Sousuke flops onto his stomach and wrestles to get the sheets flat so he can lie on them. The dog, entirely uninvited, wanders into the room and rests its chin on the edge of Sousuke's bed. Sousuke folds its ear inside out. "What d'you have in mind?" he asks Rin.

"Wanted to hit the community pool for old time's sake," he can almost hear Rin smiling on the other end of the line. "Relive our childhood. Maybe race a little."

"You say that, but you're just gonna splash around," Sousuke mutters. He's right, too. Neither of them have been serious about swimming since elementary school, and since then Rin's competitiveness has diminished somewhat. Still, goofing off with his best friend doesn't sound like a bad way to spend the day. Snoopy stares at him piteously until he relents and fixes its ear. "What do I do with the mutt?"

"Bring her along, we can probably find some kids to play with her for a few hours."

"Alright, I'll come by after breakfast."

"Ugh, what's on the menu? Deep fried Mars Bars? Fried chicken and ice cream? Mayo out of a jar?" Rin adds because he's got some sort of bizarre disdain for mayonnaise, and regularly gives Sousuke grief for his sandwiches.

Sousuke chuckles. "Nope. Bacon, and pancakes with bona fide Canadian maple syrup," he says coyly, because even though Rin doesn't like sweets, they both know the imported syrup Sousuke had paid an arm and a leg for is the stuff of the gods. "I'll make extra, if you wanna come over."

"I'll pass," Rin says dryly. "I don't understand how you're still alive what with all the junk you put in your mouth."

Sousuke's grin widens. "Well, I guess I do put a lot of junk in my mouth, but probably not enough to kill me."

"Sou-"

"And besides, I don't always swallow."

"God _dammit," _Rin makes a half-amused, half-exasperated noise. "You're disgusting. Hurry up and make your greasy breakfast so I can punch you in person."

"You're jealous because I eat whatever I want and I'm still ripped," Sousuke retorts, but gets up to look for some pants nonetheless. "Bring my Slayer t-shirt with you, I think I left it at your place the last time I was over."

"If I remember," Rin says, although they both know he will. "I'll see you at nine."

* * *

A box of chocolates has found its way onto Rei's counter.

He stares at it. It could not, he thinks, have been left by a customer, seeing as they've only just opened up shop. The manager had left the keys with them today, so it's hardly likely she could have left the chocolates behind either. Ordinarily, of course, he'd assume they belonged to Nagisa. The thought isn't the least bit surprising, because he does seem to exist on a diet of sugar and fast food. That being said, even though it's not unusual for Nagisa to bring chocolates to work, it is very strange that he should choose to do so in a frilly, heart-shaped box.

No other explanations are forthcoming, however, so Rei does the only thing he can do, and blames Nagisa anyway.

The man in question chooses that moment to stick his head out of the break room. Despite it being nine o'clock in the morning, he's halfway through a packet of potato chips. He's got two sticking out of his mouth to imitate a duck's bill, which Rei supposes is meant to be amusing, but all he can really think about is that somewhere in Nagisa's basement must be a pentagram and a contract written in blood, because that's the only explanation Rei can come up with as to why Nagisa isn't already the size of a blimp.

He doesn't voice this thought. Instead, he prods at the offending box of chocolates and says, "please don't leave your things lying around."

Nagisa grins and tilts his head back so that his potato-chip-beak falls neatly into his mouth. "Those aren't mine," he says with a loud _crunch_.

Rei sighs. "They most certainly aren't _mine_."

Coming closer, Nagisa's smile widens. "Ooh, maybe they're a gift? Have you checked for a note?"

He hasn't, actually. As it turns out, there is small card attached to the box. _Sweets for the sweet,_ it says, in curly, loopy handwriting. Rei takes his glasses off to clean them, frowning deeply. "This is very silly. We're not in high school anymore."

Sprawling across the counter, Nagisa comes close enough that Rei can make out every detail of his face even without his glasses on. "Come on, Rei, be happy! Someone's trying to give you a present! Or, actually-"

"Please don't sa-_"_

"A _prei_-sen-"

"Such as what?" Rei ignores him. "Type II diabetes?"

Nagisa winks. "Most people would appreciate getting chocolates from a secret admirer, you know."

"Speaking of which, this 'secret admirer's' handwriting looks a lot like yours."

Nagisa eats a potato chip innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hardly news," Rei mutters, opening the box. As it turns out, it's not just the box that's in the shape of a heart. Rei picks up one of the chocolates and inspects it briefly before popping it cautiously into his mouth. It's very sweet.

"Is this filled with some sort of mousse?" he asks.

Nagisa nods enthusiastically, forgetting for the moment that his admiration is supposed to be a secret. "Strawberry! It was really hard to find but they're good, right?" He looks into the box with a sparkle in his eye.

Rei glances from Nagisa to his chocolate, and then sighs. "Would you like one?"

The look he gets in return is starry enough to put the night sky to shame. "Really? Even though they're for you?"

"I don't mind. Go ahead."

That's all the permission Nagisa needs, apparently, because he tears into the box with gusto. Rei can already see how this is going to pan out; he's going to reach for his box after lunch and find it empty, and Nagisa's going to slink around the gallery with the expression of a kicked puppy for the rest of the day.

It doesn't particularly bother him, though, because he likes to watch his health, and he supposes it's the thought that counts. His co-worker is happy. At the very least, the box is rather nice, and Rei is probably going to end up bringing it back to his apartment because his collection of pretty seashells is still in need of a home. It'll look good sitting next to the vase full of morning glories that is already on his kitchen table.

"Thank you," he says sincerely, and manages not to laugh when Nagisa's smile looks like it's missing a few teeth because he's got chocolate everywhere.

* * *

"Haru, if you're going to wear my clothes, can't you at least wash them afterwards?"

"Too much trouble."

"I have _literally nothing to wear."_

Haruka says nothing. He's sitting upside-down on the sofa, watching a programme about deep sea fish, and he currently has no interest in Makoto. He is wearing a sweater that is rather too big for him, and there may be several large shirts in his dirty clothes hamper aren't actually his, but that's hardly important.

A torso in a towel blocks the TV. "Haru, I'm talking to you!"

Haruka sighs and tips sideways until he's lying down. Makoto is frowning at him, although his frown his very different from Haru's. Makoto frowns like he's worried, while Haruka generally just looks irritated. He's still damp from the shower, which he has, inexplicably, only spent about fifteen minutes in. Barely enough time to soak at all.

Instead of answering, he allows himself to admire Makoto's state of undress, because he's an artist, after all, and he knows how to appreciate aesthetic beauty even if it's been a few years since Makoto's swimming days.

Makoto, long used to this treatment, doesn't do much more than turn a bit pink. "If you have time to stare at me, go find me something to wear."

Haruka makes eye contact and shrugs. "None of my clothes will fit you."

"You don't have any of mine hiding anywhere?"

"Everything's dirty."

Makoto sighs. "I keep telling you we have more than enough money to buy you new outfits, so I don't understand why you keep borrowing mine and not returning them."

"Too much trouble."

"I can't walk around like this all day."

"Technically you can-"

"_Haru."_

Haruka keeps quiet.

Makoto sighs again and pushes his hair out his eyes. It flops back down almost immediately. "I've still got some stuff at the dry cleaner's, don't I? Could you go pick it up?"

"Don't wanna."

In response, Makoto doesn't even bother saying anything, only gesturing to his towel. _You can't expect me to go out like this_, is what he's trying to tell Haru, but Haru only rolls his eyes.

"What's the big deal? You've got the essentials covered, right?"

"I don't really want to get arrested for public indecency, thanks," Makoto says dryly, because even if Haru's trying to hide it, Makoto can see the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I don't think anyone would really care. The other day I heard Nagisa saying, '_I wouldn't mind having a taste of Makoto's Tachibanana'-"_

_"Haruka." _He's definitely red now, and he's covering his eyes with a hand. Haru takes the opportunity to bite back a snigger. "I'm going to put our clothes in the washing machine, and you're going to go to the dry cleaners and get my suits so I won't have to go around naked all day, and-" he raises his voice a bit to cut off Haruka's inevitable complaints, "I don't want to hear another word about it, or I swear I will put a padlock on my closet and you'll never be able to borrow my things again. Understand?"

Haruka harrumphs minutely and stands. As much as he enjoys seeing his best friend traipse around in a towel that may or may not have underwear hiding underneath, he does rather like wearing sweaters that are three sizes too big, although he has no interest in actually _owning_ one. He doesn't say goodbye or respond to Makoto's cheerful thanks, but they both know he's not particularly miffed (although, just for making him leave the house in the middle of his show, Makoto will probably be finding a fish in the bath tomorrow morning).

The walk to the dry cleaners is uneventful, because it's still early and although there are people out and about, none of them pay him any mind. The girl at the counter is the same one who always flirts with Makoto, so it's with a little bit of satisfaction that Haru announces he's here to take Makoto's clothes home.

Far from being jealous, the girl has kittens, and asks a lot of questions about _how long have you been together? Is he a chocolate and flowers kind of guy? Are you doing anything special for Valentine's Day this year because my friend works in a really cute café where you two could have dinner!_

Haruka, with some confusion, answers truthfully that he and Makoto have been together since they were kids, that Makoto doesn't really bother with flowers but likes chocolate, and that no, they don't usually do anything for Valentine's Day other than stay at home and eat the dinner Haru makes because Makoto can barely even boil water without burning it.

The girl beams at him but doesn't stop talking, and Haru leaves the shop with the distinct and completely new feeling that he should buy Makoto some chocolate on the way home. There's a swimming pool complex two streets away from where they live with a vending machine, so Haru takes a detour to get a bar of that weird champagne chocolate Makoto likes.

While he's fumbling around in his pocket for change, a shadow falls across the vending machine. Haru looks up and blinks.

* * *

"Hello," says Sousuke. His voice his pleasant, but his smile is slightly predatory.

Haruka doesn't take a step back, because there's a vending machine right behind him. As it is, he reaches back to steady himself against it and meets this new addition's gaze. "Yamazaki," he says calmly 's a very large dog standing next to him, giving him the canine equivalent of the stinkeye. Haru glares back at it. Yamazaki smiles.

"This is the station's police dog. She's been helping us sniff out criminals for years. Got a nose almost as sharp as mine, in fact. Did you know that a trained German Shepherd is strong enough to take down a grown man? I didn't." He pauses to chuckle. "Then I saw it for myself, of course. Sometimes, when people try to run, we don't even bother chasing. We just let her loose."

Maybe Haruka's only imagining things, but he swears he hears a very low growl. He isn't sure whether or not to maintain eye contact with the hellbeast. Yamazaki, alarmingly, loosens his grip on the leash.

"You don't like her, Nanase?"

"I'm more of a cat person," Haru scowls.

"Huh. And she's normally so friendly, too." Sousuke glances at the laundry bag in Haru's arms and then comes a little closer so Haru has to crane his neck to look at him. Involuntarily, he retreats until his back comes into contact with the glass of the vending machine. "Chores?"

"Dry cleaning."

"Fascinating," Sousuke says. "It's really quite a coincidence, running into you here. I've been thinking about you for a while."

"I'm not looking for a relationship."

"I do _not-_" Sousuke starts, then stops and sighs. "You know what? I can see why you and Rin are friends. But that's not what I'm talking about."

"Good, because this is an awful way to ask someone out," Haru deadpans. It's mostly bravado, because he's only just realized how small he is compared to Yamazaki, and how little he cares for dogs, and how this time, Makoto isn't around to deflect the attention, so Haru's basically on his own. They're in public, but there's nobody in the immediate area, and Haru isn't entirely sure if screaming is going to help at this point.

A smile plays in the corner of Yamazaki's mouth, which is a dangerous place for something as innocent as a smile to play, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "That's a crying shame, Nanase. I really was hoping to take you out, you know? Of the picture, I mean. And Tachibana, too, for good measure."

"What are you saying?" Haru narrows his eyes a little, because he doesn't appreciate the idea of Makoto being unsubtly threatened.

Sousuke, however, only shrugs. "I'm curious about you guys. I wanna know everything about you. Every dirty little secret." He abruptly stops smiling, which startles Haru somewhat. "Because, call me crazy, but you seem like you're up to something. Something that Rin's probably too nice to notice, but weirdly enough, you really rub me the wrong way."

Haruka's expression doesn't change much, but his heart's doing a fucking samba in his ribcage. He's frozen, unable to react as smoothly as he knew Makoto would, or even properly defend himself the way Rin's given him pointers on. "I haven't done anything," he says instead, doing a decent job of keeping his voice steady.

"Somehow, I doubt that. I have a hunch that you're trouble, and my hunches are generally right," Sousuke says darkly. He leans forward until he's almost nose to nose with the man he's shamelessly threatening. From this distance, Haru can only see the cold, alien blue of his eyes. "Stay away from Rin," he hisses. "There's something wrong with you, and I'm going to find out what."

Haru doesn't move as Sousuke draws away, because he can't, really. He wishes he weren't so wide-eyed, because Yamazaki's obviously smug about it, but it takes a Herculean effort to put his poker face back on. Yamazaki doesn't seem impressed, and only continues to look down his nose imperiously. "I'll be keeping an eye on Tachibanananase."

"What?"

Sousuke falters. "I'll be watching Tachibana and also you, Nanase," he clears his throat and glances away, because it's not as though '_Tachibananana-se'_ is particularly fun to say, and he definitely hadn't made a little song out of it and sung it to himself all through breakfast. He turns in the direction of the swimming pool's entrance and smiles over his shoulder, tugging the evil creature with him. "Hopefully, we'll be seeing more of each other. Although, I suppose, that might not work out so well for you."

He leaves. Haruka watches him go, feeling a little bit as though someone's dropped a millstone into his stomach. Yamazaki disappears into the swimming complex, which makes Haru feel a bit sick, because he's always associated the water with peace, and mixing a nice image with Sousuke Yamazaki somehow seems wrong.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose helps somewhat. Yamazaki is suspicious, and if he's not full of shit, then Haruka and Makoto might need to start coming up with some plans fast. Talking to Makoto is probably the best idea, but he's well aware that Mako tends to be very overprotective and might threaten Yamazaki right back. As much as Haru would like to see that, it's best not to cause any more reason to doubt them. Besides, threatening a police officer is never a good idea, even if Yamazaki is a disgrace to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Force.

He could complain to Rin. It would be well within his right, but this is Rin's best friend, and Haru isn't particularly interested in watching that drama unfold. No, until he stops feeling so helpless and manages to get his act together, he won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Even though it's starting to get very warm, Haru shudders in his sweater; Yamazaki's gone, but now Haru can't shake the feeling that he's got eyes on him.

He buys the chocolate and goes home, glancing over his shoulder all the way.

* * *

**I hear you ask, why is Sousuke eating pancakes, bacon and probably half a carton of orange juice? The answer is simple, my friends. It's because it's three in the fucking morning and I'm sitting here eating bacon doused in maple syrup like a worthless sack of shit, and I regret nothing.**

**Does the scene with the vending machine look familiar? Of course not, I am 1000% original.**

**So the chapters so far have been unbeta'd, but I made the mistake of showing this to my beta Zoe (who works with me because nobody else will put up with me), and her main complaint was that there needed to be '600% more dog'.**

**I say it was a mistake because at the mention of Dogg at the pool she promptly decided to show me this: **

** nationalvenom dot tumblr dot com slash post/95913775203/brook-sizvideos-watch-it-in-video-follow**

**which is about a pool that lets dogs in when they close for the end of the year. It's a problem because she neglected to mention that a) it's basically a video about cute puppies splashing in the water and b) it's hosted on a site dedicated TO ADORABLE DOG VIDEOS so long story short if you don't see me ever again you know why.**

**You can't spell Sousuke without uke, and well I suppose that explains more than you need to know, because this idiot can't even threaten a guy without embarrassing himself.**

**LittleImagination has caused me to pay special attention to Kisumi. He's cute! I want to put him in the story.**

**Headcanon #3: Sousuke, much like Haruka, has slightly odd taste in food. Rin, much like Makoto, is frequently distressed by this.**

**Headcanon #4: Haru leaves fish all over the place when he's upset. Nobody knows if this is passive-aggressiveness, or because Haru has a really weird sense of humour. When they were twenty, Makoto tried to hide Mr Northern Stoplight Loosejaw. Haru was furious, and put fish in Makoto's cupboard and in his pillowcase. Makoto found them pretty quickly, but for some reason the apartment still smelled funny. Rin eventually figured out that Haru had also put fish in the air vents, and Mr Northern Stoplight Loosejaw returned to its rightful place.**

**I've been looking for an excuse to talk about Makoto's Tachibanana forever now.**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Considering your whole lifestyle a crime-in-progress is not a happy prospect.

* * *

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Makoto takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on the handle of his cylindrical case. They're standing in front of the door to the hotel conference room, Haruka glancing around to make sure nobody is paying them too much attention. Makoto notices this and puts a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be fine. You did a good job."

"I know," says Haruka. He doesn't look nervous, but Makoto can tell. He always does.

"We've done this so many times before, Haru."

"I know."

"And your paintings are always perfect."

"I know."

"And I'm incredibly charming."

Haru rolls his eyes at that. "I know."

Makoto smiles. "Then we'll sell this piece just like how we sold the others. There's nothing to worry about. You trust me, right?"

"Yes," Haru says, glancing at the case in Makoto's hands. Haruka has one too, but they're not going to need it just yet.

Makoto plasters a smile on his face and motions for Haru to leave. Haru strides off somewhere, probably to skulk behind a potted plant. He's not usually this nervous, although, unsurprisingly, he's hardly vocal about it. Perhaps he's just antsy because he hadn't liked the painting when Makoto bought it. Still, there's not much time to think about it, because he's got a client waiting for him.

The somber wooden door to the conference room swings open under his hand, and he is greeted by the sight of a gentleman in a grey suit that doesn't suit him. He's young, fair-haired, and spares Makoto a bright grin. "You're early."

"Punctuality is important," says Makoto pleasantly. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Shigino."

"Call me Kisumi," the younger man extends a hand. "Have an easy time getting here?"

"I did, actually. Now, shall we get straight to business? I'm afraid I have another client to see in an hour and I'd like to be early for her as well."

"Alrighty," says Shigino- Kisumi, rather. "Show me what you've got."

Makoto nods and opens the case. "Takano. You may not have heard of her, because she's still quite new to the art scene. Her work is mostly pop culture, which is a little unorthodox, but she's gaining a lot of popularity among the younger crowds. I thought this might do, since you said you wanted something feminine."

"Oh, gosh," Makoto's client laughs out loud. "I don't look like the feminine type , do I? My_ boss_ is the girly one, not me. I'm just the middleman."

"Ah, my apologies." Holding the bottom of the painting steady so it doesn't roll back up, Makoto lets his smile soften. "You're right, I did wonder if there'd been some sort of mistake, but to each, his own, I guess."

"True," Kisumi chuckles. "Although, I probably shouldn't say any more- I don't think I'd be employed for very long if word got out I was dissing my boss's preferences."

"That would be a shame, you seem like a very capable employee."

"Now you're just trying to butter me up."

"Maybe I am," Makoto says, and treats Kisumi to his warmest laugh.

Tilting his head, Kisumi inspects the painting and then shrugs. "I don't fancy it myself, but who am I to argue with pink hair? Other people can be difficult to shop for, I guess. Luckily for me, though, Orihaya, it seems you've got a good eye."

Makoto, alias Ira Orihaya, smiles. "So I take it you'd like the piece?"

"I would. But you'll allow me to check for authenticity first, of course. I don't like to take chances, and this is my boss's cash we're talking about."

"Of course," says Makoto, stepping aside to let the other man inspect it. Kisumi opens his briefcase and tugs out a small magnifier. Balancing it between three fingers, he takes his time checking it over.

"Looking at tiny details like this makes my head spin, but I guess this is what a guy gets for graduating from art school," he says conversationally. Makoto keeps the smile on. He knows what Kisumi is looking for; renegade brush hairs, a too-strong oil smell, convincing paint thickness, and any number of other minute details. Regardless of how good he is at his job, however, he won't find anything out of the ordinary. Makoto hasn't actually tried to scam him.

Not yet, at least.

Kisumi is satisfied, and reports that he's happy with the quality of what Makoto's trying to sell him. Now comes the fun part: arguing about price. Makoto's first offer is three hundred and fifty hundred thousand yen, significantly more than what he had paid himself. Kisumi blinks at this, then glances down at the painting, and then back at Makoto.

"Orihaya, this isn't a Da Vinci. Isn't your price a little steep?"

"You asked for mid-range, and this is the upper end of mid-range," Makoto says politely but firmly. Kisumi looks two steps away from outrage, and Makoto already anticipates demands that he be more reasonable. He is, however, not in the mood to bargain, and makes this clear. His client is having none of it and insists on a lower price, so Makoto bows, packs up his things, and politely walks out the door.

Haru's waiting right outside.

The change of hands is easy to miss unless you're looking hard. The original piece is swapped for the version painted by Haru. Convincing at first glance, but unlikely to stand up to scrutiny. Makoto, however, has no reason to worry about this because that hurdle has already been passed. By the time anyone thinks to take a second look, he and Haru will be long gone. The second case is identical to the first one, right down to the tiny scratch on the top of the lid. Haru disappears into the lift with the real painting, and Makoto walks away with the fake. One of the many fakes, in fact. Takano is popular this year, and there seem to be quite a few people willing to buy this particular work. Makoto is only too happy to oblige by giving out three copies in total, although he'll be selling the original back to another art dealer before the month is out. It's not worth having Haru gripe over hair painted the wrong colour.

He makes it halfway across the lobby before Kisumi Shigino opens the door and calls him back.

Makoto turns around and smiles even wider. This time, he's prepared to negotiate.

* * *

Nagisa's excited about having Rei over, it seems, because he's barreling up and down the hall yelling something about chicken nuggets.

Rei sighs and adjusts his glasses. For the past week Nagisa has alternated between whining, cajoling and attempts at bribery to get Rei to accept a date. He's refused, thus far, less out of any dislike of Nagisa than out of principle, because he kept making those awful puns with Rei's name. Yesterday, though, he'd relented, only because Nagisa had looked so piteous that Rei couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

That's the main reason why he's in Nagisa's cramped flat. He wouldn't mind leaving to the park now, actually, because it's dusk and the weather is very pleasant. Nagisa, however, has insisted on fixing him a snack, and is making so much noise that Rei's half-considering taking over the job and kicking the blond menace out of the kitchen.

It's terribly messy. This comes as no surprise, because his coworker is scatterbrained and lax, and completely unlike Rei, which explains why his living space is completely unlike Rei's as well. It's colourful, haphazardly decorated, and crammed full of junk. Still, Rei thinks, it's not all bad, because at least it's warm and he somehow doesn't feel like an intruder even though he's never been here before.

Something crashes in the kitchen and Nagisa calls out an apology. Rei puts his head in his hands. If he didn't leave everything lying around, he'd probably have an easier time getting anything done. It's no wonder he loses something important at least once a week. Nagisa's far too old to need a babysitter, but Rei suddenly feels the need to _do_ something about his messy, entirely immature lifestyle.

Tidying up the living room seems like a good start, so Rei nods to himself and gets to work reorganizing the coffee table. He's a lot less irritated than he should be, but that may only be because he's always liked making things pretty, not because this is Nagisa, specifically.

It doesn't take much more than five minutes, so he moves on to the bookshelf, which doesn't actually have any books in it because Nagisa's left them scattered on the floor instead. He straightens up a couple of decorative odds and ends and debates whether or not to throw out the box for some hip new brand of headphones.

He opens it up first to check if there's anything inside, and then blinks.

Nagisa pops his head out of the kitchen. "Okay, I might have gotten a little carried away with the chicken nuggets, and long story short, do you think you'll be able to finish twenty-seven of them? Because that's about half of what I made."

Rei meets his gaze with an expression so void of emotion that Nagisa feels like he's staring into Cthulhu's inky black asshole. "What is this."

Nagisa's eyes slide down to the box in his guest's rapidly tightening grip. "That's. Uh. Oregano."

"No it isn't."

If Rei had a dolphin handy, he might be able to translate Nagisa's panicked squeaks. He doesn't, unfortunately, so he's forced to wait until the other man becomes coherent enough to claim innocence. Rei sets the box down gingerly, not wanting to get any on his hands, and scowls.

"When you invited me over, you didn't tell me I would be walking into the house of a _drug addict._"

"I am not a druggie!" Nagisa holds his hands up in surrender, almost smacking himself with the spatula. "It's not mine, it's my friend's, he left it here, anyway I don't think you can get addicted to that stuff because it's too mild but it's really nice to help you unwind and food really tastes amazing-"

"This is illegal!" Rei bellows, and then drops his voice to a hiss halfway through the sentence. "I could get into trouble even associating with you! If anyone found out, we'd both get arrested!"

Nagisa gives him a nervous grin. "Now, don't you think you're exagge-_rei-_ti-"

"_Nagisa."_

"Okay, okay!" The spatula leaves a trace of oil on the counter when Nagisa puts it down. "You caught me. It's mine, and I bought it for a really good price, and apparently I should have hid it a little better because I didn't think you'd go snooping through my things-"

"I was _cleaning-_"

"Regardless," Nagisa interrupts, finally coming out of the kitchen to stand right in front of him, "I can see you're not happy, and, well…do you not like me anymore?"

It would be easy to say that no, Rei doesn't like him anymore, and that they're not going out on a date, but Nagisa looks honestly scared. He can't turn around and leave now, not after the flowers and chocolates and compliments and hugs. Rei does have a heart, after all, so he adjust his glasses and sighs. "I think you and I need to have a serious talk about the dangers of keeping illicit substances in your home."

Nagisa positively beams at him. "So you still like me?"

"Yes, Nagisa, I still like y_oof-" _his words die into a strangled wheeze when he's attacked by a blond head to the sternum.

"Thank you, Rei! I'm so happy!"

"You're crushing me," Rei croaks (his ribs are, after all, only organic), but doesn't try to wriggle free.

Nagisa suddenly looks up at him and smiles, and Rei feels like he should have gone home after all. "Hey, Rei."

"What?"

"You wanna try some?"

It takes a second for Rei to understand what's being asked of him, and then he splutters. "Are you seriously trying to get me to sample your drugs?"

"I don't think these count as drugs," Nagisa says slyly, fishing around in the box until he finds a long, thin, white cylinder. "But it's good stuff, and aren't you curious at all?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Liar." A lighter is dangled in Rei's face. "You can't just turn down a new experience, Rei! Come one, it'll be fun. Do it for _science._"

Rei almost falters, at that. "You can't get me to go along with your madness just by throwing around the word 'science', Nagisa."

"Fair enough," Nagisa laughs, uneasiness gone. "But it's seriously an out-of-body experience! And, well, I'm gonna light one, so you can join in if you want."

Rei frowns deeply as the stick is lit and an odd smell hits him after a few seconds of Nagisa's puffing. He's only ever read about experiences like these, much less come into contact with anyone who actually indulges in them, and as much as he hates to admit it, he does sort of wonder what it's going to be like. He's never even been properly drunk before, aside from that one time at his twenty-first birthday party. He eyes his friend warily, but doesn't pull back when the unlit end is held to his lips.

"Go ahead," Nagisa bats his eyes.

Rei sighs, leans forward, takes a puff and proceed to hack up a lung.

* * *

The lights in the café are dim, bathing the room in a faint orange glow. There's music playing on the speakers, but it's drowned out by the soft chattering of the patrons. Two drinks are on the table. Sousuke hasn't started on his share yet, but he can already tell that his coffee is going to be far too sweet.

"Thanks for taking me out even though I'm technically still arrested," says Momotaro from around a mouthful of muffin.

Sousuke looks away from the elderly couple sitting at the table across from them. He gives Momo a smile that's more teeth than mirth, but doesn't bother straightening up in his chair. "Easiest way to talk to you. Plus, everyone at the station was happy to get rid of you, since you're such an annoying little shit."

Momo is, for some reason, tickled by this, and he makes his good cheer known by stealing the whipped cream off of Sousuke's coffee. "I sure did miss you guys. It was hard getting away from my brother for long enough to get back in here."

"Did you talk to him?"

"I did!" the younger Mikoshiba brother turns his muffin around, apparently wondering if he should eat the rest of it now that the crunchy part on top has been inhaled.

Sousuke leans forward and drops his voice so it won't be heard over the noise. "And what did he say?"

"First he asked how I got his number, and then he laughed, then he said no thanks. But I'm gonna call him again tomorrow. I've got tickets to see the new Transformers movie so I'm sure he'll go out with me then!"

Sergeant Yamazaki sighs. "Momo, no. I don't care about your love life with Officer Nitori. I want to know what your brother knows about Nanase."

"Oh." Momo pulls a crumpled wad of paper from his back pocket and flattens it out. "Here, I wrote it down for you so I wouldn't forget."

Sousuke takes the piece of paper and frowns. "A phony art dealer?"

Momotaro nods, sipping his milkshake. "Nobody recognized the name, but apparently some people have seen the big guy. They say he sells paintings, but he uses a different name every time. He's usually seen with the other one, the one with black hair. There are rumours that some of the stuff he sells turns out to be fake, but nobody's managed to catch either of them yet. That's all I could find out, though. Sei's not really involved in that kind of thing. Speaking of which, he's not gonna get in trouble, is he?"

"Not if he doesn't do anything stupid," says Sousuke absently, tapping his chin. Momo's hand is inching towards his abandoned coffee, but Sousuke allows him to pinch it without much of a fuss. This information is interesting, but he'll need proof if he wants to take any proper action against the men known as Nanase and Tachibana. It's not hard imagining quiet, deep Nanase being in the background of illicit activities, but he should have been a little more suspicious of Tachibana's affable smile.

He stands up. "Let's get back to the station."

"Do I have to go back into holding?"

"_Yes,_ you have to go back into holding. You tried to steal a policeman's uniform."

"That's not so bad!"

"Momo, it was still attached to the policeman."

Momo sighs. "I can't help it, I just really like Officer Nitori."

Sousuke opens the door and steps out into the street. Coffee in one hand and muffin in the other, Momotaro jogs after him. He's probably trying to chat about something, but Sousuke doesn't pay him much attention. Nanase is Rin's friend, which means it might be a good idea to go easy on him, but he'll be damned if he lets Rin get entangled with a criminal. He doesn't say much when they get back to the station, but allows Momo to take his food back to his cell. Rin gives him a questioning glance. Sousuke tells him to go enjoy the rest of his lunch break.

He doesn't tell Momo he's done a good job, but the police dog finds her way into his cell half an hour later, and Momotaro's yells of delight can be heard from all the way down the street.

* * *

**_ARE YOU FUCKING TELLING ME_**  
**_THAT NITORI'S HOBBY_**  
**_IS PLAYING WITH DOGS?_**

**Silly haircut, messy, doggies, unhealthy crush on Matsuoka Rin? Guys Nitori is mY SPIRIT ANIMAL**

**My beta Zoe refuses to call Minishiba anything other than "momomom om om om ommom". She doesn't even watch the show.**

**The illegal substances weren't even part of the plot when I planned this out, I just thought it'd be funny and decided to go with it. I promised myself I wouldn't actually say what Nagisa's hiding while simultaneously making it very obvious. Drugs are bad, kids! Stay away from them!**

**So, in keeping with the theme of dramatic reveals, there's something I should probably tell everyone. I hope you don't think any less of me after I say it, though.**

**I'm actually allergic to dogs.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6: It's good to be your own partner in crime. God, that makes me sound like I have a personality disorder.

* * *

"Nuggets," says Nagisa, "are the most incredible things to have ever walked the earth."

"Don't be ridiculous, nuggets can't walk, they don't have any legs." Rei tries to pat him on the head, but misses a few times. "See? They're round." He holds one up and squints at it.

Nagisa tries to bite it out of his fingers, but Rei bats him away and retreats to the other end of the couch. "_Stop_ that," he complains. "I'm trying to examine this beautiful creature in detail. Look at its shape. It's circular, except not really. Perfect in its imperfection. Unique! What a noble animal. And so very tiny." He breaks it in half and inspects the contents. "I can't make out its innards. Perhaps they're very small? You should have told me there would be nuggets, Nagisa, I would have brought my microscope."

Nagisa smiles giddily and leans back on the couch, planting his socked feet squarely in Rei's lap. He feels light and cottony, as though his consciousness has escaped his body and is floating just above it, attached by a single, thin cord of self-awareness. The only parts of him that feel solid are the soles of his feet, being anchored to Rei as they are. He wiggles his toes, sighing at the reassuring firmness of Rei's thighs. "I'm glad you decided to go out with me," he says dreamily. "You're really pretty and smart and kind of geeky but in a totally cute way. I bet you're a virgin, too, but that's fine.

Rei frowns at Nagisa's feet and slowly starts slipping off the couch. "How rude," he says, but doesn't elaborate any further.

"Isn't this the best?" It seems Nagisa's lost the ability to speak without grinning. He doesn't mind, though, because it's entirely satisfying to sink into the cushions while his mind glides in the air just above him. "Just us two and delicious food. It's g-_rei-_t."

There's an odd noise from the other end of the sofa, so Nagisa lifts his head. Rei's face is doing something complicated, somewhere in between a laugh and a scowl. "I never know what to do with you," he sighs, probably not noticing how petulant he sounds. "You're so illogical and frustrating and overwhelming. Like a puzzle I can't solve, but I want to keep trying." He leans his head back, half a nugget balanced in each hand, and watches the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. "I'm not sure what to think right now. Can't concentrate. Inspired, though. Everything is clear. My body and my mind have separated."

"Separated?" Nagisa says.

"Sepa-_rei-_ted," Rei says, and then dissolves into laughter.

Nagisa moves his feet and then shifts around until he can put his face into Rei's stomach with very little finesse. Rei's sweater feels like it's made of kittens and weed. It's nice. "Will you feed me another nugget?"

"By all means," Rei transfers his broken nugget bits to one hand and picks up a whole one to hold against Nagisa's mouth. "A tiny nugget beast for a tiny Nagisa beast."

Nagisa's eyes are slightly vacant, but they widen with sudden realization. He sits upright and grabs his friend's wrist, starling them both. "Oh my god. Rei. What if we're eating _babies?"_

Rei blinks, looks down at his mutilated nugget pieces in his right hand, and then at the unmolested nugget in his left hand. "Babies?" he repeats, tasting the word cautiously on his tongue. "Huh. You might be right. Maybe these are young. But what do the adults look like?"

"Hamburgers," says Nagisa miserably, staring at the plate on the coffee table. There are four nuggets left, excluding the ones Rei's got in his hands. "I can't believe we ate so many babies. I think I'm gonna be sick."

A mollifying hand finds its way to his arm, although Rei doesn't look too sure how it got there. "Anyone is fair game in the animal kingdom," he says kindly.

Nagisa sniffles and picks up the plate. "Poor things. They died for us. I feel so bad. But they taste _so good._"

Rei pops one of his nugget halves into his mouth inelegantly and then gently prods Nagisa to accept the other, whole one. "We shouldn't let their deaths be in vain."

"You're right," Nagisa says, lip wobbling, right before he shoves all four nuggets in his mouth. A single tear escapes unbidden from the corner of his eye. "It's what they would have wanted," is what Rei thinks he says, although it's hard to tell with his mouth completely full.

He almost chokes when he swallows, so Rei thumps him on the back until he stops coughing. The plate makes a soft _chink_ when Nagisa sets it back on the table. The thought of having eaten nugget children that might have had nugget parents and nugget dreams leaves a hollow feeling in his chest, although it's hard to concentrate on this fully when his treacherous brain suddenly reminds him of what prawns look like when they swim, but he fights back the giggles and offers a prayer instead.

He turns to suggest that Rei offer some condolences as well because it's only right, really, but realizes halfway through his sentence that he can't actually talk because Rei's tongue is, for some reason, becoming deeply acquainted with Nagisa's tonsils.

Rei pulls away and Nagisa blinks at him. He glances at the floor and then back at Nagisa's mouth. "You ate the last four nuggets," he explains matter-of-factly. "Unfair. Trying to get them back."

"Oh," says Nagisa, and immediately climbs into his lap to try that again.

* * *

Once upon a time, Kisumi's apartment looked like it belonged to a teenager.

The walls never used to be painted a calm, steel grey. Or, rather, they might have been, but it would have been impossible to see under the forest's worth of posters stuck haphazardly onto every flat surface. It used to be messy, too. Now, Sousuke knows that if he were to run a finger against any surface, it would come up clean. He'd be more surprised at the drastic change if he didn't already know that Kisumi had a maid come in every weekend, though. The truth is that the other man is still hopeless at cleaning up after himself. He's only gotten better at hiding it.

"You like your coffee black, right?" Kisumi's voice floats in from the kitchen. Sousuke answers that anything is fine.

Kisumi makes the coffee black anyway. It's so bitter that Momo would have hated it.

"It's unusual for you to come visit me," Kisumi says amiably, leaning back in his plush cream-coloured armchair. He sips at the coffee as though it is water. "I don't suppose you wanted to catch up on old times?"

"This is a business trip, unfortunately," Sousuke replies. He leans forward to pull a folded-up photograph out of the back pocket of his jeans, and then slides it across the table. "There are a couple of people I'm looking for."

The photo is held up at eye level. Kisumi frowns.

"What's so special about these two?"

Sousuke quirks his lips at the lava lamp resting on the living room table. It is one of the few items to survive Kisumi's recent redecoration. "I've heard that they're not completely upstanding citizens. Right now, though, I can't find any information on them. I was wondering if you'd happen to know them."

The man sitting across from him smiles. "Gosh. What's in it for me? Intel don't come cheap, you know."

"How's your boss?"

If Shigino is thrown by the sudden change of topic, he doesn't show it. "Fine, thanks. Busy with work."

Sousuke hums softly in agreement. "Yes, I can imagine life must get hectic with the feds knocking on your door. Even with friends in high places, it's hard to sweep accusations of yakuza involvement under the rug."

"I get the feeling you're trying to threaten me."

"Threaten you? God, no. I'm a cop," says Sousuke pleasantly. "I am, saying, though, that your boss's life would probably be easier if, theoretically, someone were to stall investigations long enough to say, transfer money into an overseas bank account?"

Kisumi grins. "I bought a painting from the one with the brown hair. His name is Ira Orihaya."

Sousuke blinks, glances down at the picture and then bites back a smirk. "Ira Orihaya, huh?"

"Yup. Nice guy. Knew his stuff. Offered to buy me a coffee, too, even though we only met the one time."

"And you say you bought only one painting from him?"

"Yeah, some girly pink thing for the boss."

"How much?"

"Two hundred grand."

Sousuke raises his eyebrows. "Hefty sum."

Kisumi shrugs. "Art is expensive, and some people can be picky. This is still considered mid-range, though. You should see the price tags on some of the really famous stuff."

It's easy to hide a smile under the pretext of taking a sip of coffee. "So, just to be clear, you bought a two hundred thousand yen, mid-range painting for your boss from the man in the photo, whose name is Ira Orihaya."

A nod. "That's right."

Sousuke finishes his coffee and extends a hand. "You know what, Kisumi? Thanks. You were a big help, and I get the feeling this is going to turn out to be useful."

* * *

Makoto makes a lot of noise when he walks.

It's a good thing that Haruka has good hearing. Or, rather, it's a good thing that he's actually paying attention to his surroundings today, rather than goofing off in the bathtub like he normally does.

He _is_ in the bathtub, of course, but this time, he's busy.

Makoto knocks on the door. "You've been in there for an hour. I'm coming in."

The door slides open and Makoto pokes his head in. Haru sighs and snaps his laptop shut. "It's a little weird for a grown man to be coming into the bathroom when his other friend, also a grown man, is bathing," he says. Well, he thinks it, anyway. Knowing Makoto, he will be able to understand Haru's message with just a look.

True to form, Makoto only smiles in response to Haru's baleful glare, and leans against the doorframe. "If I let you stay in there for as long as you wanted, you'd come out as one big wrinkle. And don't look at me like that, Haru, I know what you're going to say, and no, I'm not secretly trying to instill any form of Oedipus complex in you by mothering you."

"I don't know if I can trust the word of a pervert who keeps walking in on me in the bathroom," Haru retorts.

Makoto chuckles and comes in anyway. "Even if that were true, it would be hard for me to practice my sexual deviancy on you, considering you wear a swimsuit in the tub."

It's with no small amount of smugness that Haru draws his knees away from his chest, although his expression remains neutral. "What swimsuit?" he asks.

Makoto's face does something fascinating, then; it goes through at least six different expressions while simultaneously turning pale, and then he colours completely and covers his eyes with his hands. "Oh my _god_, Haru! Why didn't you tell me you were naked?"

Haru raises an eyebrow even though Makoto can't see it. "I have to announce that I'm going to be naked while I bathe?"

"You're never naked normally!" Makoto cries, apparently too freaked out to run away. He peeks through a gap in his fingers, but keeps his gaze locked firmly above Haru's shoulders. "What the heck! Why aren't you wearing your swimsuit? Put it on!"

"Alright," says Haru mildly, and moves to stand up.

Makoto yelps. _"OH MY GOD I TAKE IT BACK SIT DOWN AND DON'T MOVE._ I get the message, I'll go! But what were you even doing?"

Haru says nothing, but glances at the laptop perched innocuously on the side of the tub. Realisation dawns slowly on Makoto's face like butter over hot toast.

"Oh. _Oh_. You were, uh, having alone time, I'm so sorry, please warn me next time, I've gotta go not be here anymore. I'll be in the living room trying to forget everything about my life up till now. Call me if you need me," he says, turns, and runs out the door.

Haru almost shrugs, but aborts the movement halfway, because what's the point, really. Makoto's ridiculously easy to wind up, even if he's the one taking care of Haru most of the time. He reaches over and pulls the laptop back towards him.

"Plane tickets should be pretty cheap this season," he mumbles to himself, and continues studying up on overseas bank accounts.

* * *

**Youth has now ended**  
**New dreams for the future; but**  
**_what about Sousuke_**

**-free! : a haiku**


End file.
